


All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name.

by Narya



Series: DrabbleFest [18]
Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Robot, Cats, Character Death, Daddy Issues, Drabble Collection, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Shotgunning, Smoking, Space Pirates, Wedding Night, merman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-28
Updated: 2012-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-02 15:51:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narya/pseuds/Narya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a collection of Drabbles I've been writing in my tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shotgunning

Kurt didn’t like cigarettes, but he did like the smoke as it traveled to the ceiling, the way it looked against the sky and the way Puck’s lips would suck the air through the tobacco. He didn’t like the cigarettes or it’s smell, but he liked watching when Puck smoked because Puck never smoke when he was anxious, Puck smoked when he was relaxed, when he needed to think, when he was just so lazy after an orgasm that he needed something to do with his hands or he’d fall asleep. 

Kurt didn’t like cigarettes or it’s smell or the taste left in Puck’s mouth afterwards, but he liked the idea of holding a stick between his fingers and blowing out a thread of smoke to the air. He blamed all those old movies in which the male lead would just light up a fire and take a drag, looking sexy and mysterious. Puck said that he was silly, and ruffled his hair, each time he caught him looking, but there was something in his eyes the Kurt liked so he kept doing it.

Kurt didn’t like cigarettes or it’s smell or the taste left in Puck’s mouth afterwards or the idea of having dirty teeth afterwards, but he liked to kiss Puck just after he took a drag, he liked to feel his lungs filling with Puck’s breath and smoke, he liked the way that Puck was always a bit surprised when he did it, and he liked the way that the smoke danced between them when he exhaled, just to be kissed again, the cigarette all but forgotten in an ash tray that Kurt had in his room just because of Puck.


	2. The songbird and the Thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt is a machine made for musical pleasure, Puck is nothing more than a thief, but that is enough

Kurt was the name of the one object he was looking for. It was said to be the most precious instrument ever created, the most beautiful bird and the most glorious song-speller ever known. It was said the be a machine of unnatural beauty whose art could rend even the most stoic of kings speechless and the reason so many planets had fallen decades before.

Noah A. Puckerman was the name of the man who was looking for it. He was said to be the most careful man alive, able to run in and out of a building without even being seen, almost invisible to the eyes of unaware men and women. He was said to be a man of skin and bones and lust running in his veins, who could kill you with his passion and tie you to bed with a couple of words. It was known everywhere that he was cold as a machine and would never get himself involved in anything he did. He was said to be the best in his line of work.

Truth was that Kurt wasn’t a machine anymore and Noah wasn’t anything but a fraud, but when Noah opened the door to the cage and saw Kurt for the first time…

God…

He understood all those things he had read about the bird, about his eyes and his beauty, about his voice and his song.

And Kurt understood soon that even if he had learnt with the centuries to love like a human, he’d have to learn to think like a machine again if he didn’t want to be heartbroken.

Noah escaped with Kurt in his arms, escaped the guards in the palace, the ships that followed them into space, escaped the guys that had paid him to steal a machine that longed to be longed.

One that he couldn’t help but love.


	3. Overrated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fairy Tales are overrated

If you were to ask him, just a few days before, what was the best physical feature of the guy who was going to be his husband, he’d say his eyes. They were just so deep, and soulful, full of love and a shared past and a playful glint that lightened him on fire in seconds; or maybe his mouth, those lips that sang the most beautiful songs and that swore the most awful curses before coming. 

Right now, thought, it was his arms. There was a special place in his mind that had a shrine for them. They hugged him like a blanket, like the most warm and comfortable fleece, like the sun kissing his skin, like the electricity before the storm. They held him at night, when he was happy, when he was trembling in fear because of the nightmares, when he was just in the brink of exploding to his emotions and pleasure. They caressed him like a whisper, like a feather, like a thunder.

“What are you thinking, princess?” Puck said, his breath just a few millimeters from his mouth.

“You… your eyes, your mouth, your arms” he said with a smirk.

“Anything good about them?” he asked, before putting his mouth to better use on his neck.

“All about them is good” he whispered, not even bothering to hide a sigh at the attention he was getting.

“Good”

If you were to ask him, back when he was a child, what he imagined his first night with his husband… well, he’d probably blush and spin a tale about a wonderful man who would sweep him off his feet, carry him in his arms like a prince to a bed full of roses. Right now, though… While he was in the arms of a wonderful man, he had better things to do than just wait to be carried like a damsel in distress. No, he let his legs sneak around his husband waist, his arms around his neck, just giving as good as he was getting. 

He had everything he wanted… fairy tales, those things he imagined when he was a kid, where overrated. What he had right now was so much better than fiction.


	4. Healing Process

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had taken a while, it had taken effort, it had taken love, it had taken pride, it had taken a family, it had taken Kurt

It had taken a while, so much more than than Puck was willing to give it, and dedication, so much more than he felt he deserved, but it had happened. He wasn’t even sure how it came to happen, but it had; it had laid on his back without him noticing, like a blanket, like rain, like a hug… and it had covered the scars and cracks that life had started carving into him since he could remember.

It had taken effort, not necessarily his (though he had been convinced to help himself), it had been mostly that of his friend. Back then he didn’t even knew that he needed that effort, how much he craved it. Not to actually put the effort, but to feel that someone was giving its best effort for him. It was weird. He was so used to be the last one to take on account, the guy left to fend by himself, that he didn’t even realize how much he liked being put first on the list, top priority… and not just once, no, it wasn’t a fluke. It was a constant thing. The first guy called if he needed help, the first one asked when an opinion was needed, the first one called when he wanted to celebrate. 

It had taken love. Not the kind he was used to, not the sweaty and rough time in the sheets (though that might come later), but the slow burning fire that set on his belly each time they spoke, or saw each other on the hallway. The closeness that came from having a friend which, more than a best friend who could be just about anyone, was good to him regardless of the status of their friendship. The warmth that seemed to surround him when they held hands for the first time and whenever they hugged. The hard time he had had controlling his tears when, for the first time in ages, he had said “I’m proud of you”.

It had taken pride. Not in his guns (though he still felt proud of them), but in the way he had started to rebuild his life little by little, mending what could be mended and throwing away the bad things (the hate he felt for his father, the regret he felt because of Beth, the shame he felt of being himself, the fear of a future that he had never felt he was entitled to have). Pride in who he was now, who he was turning to be, who he was willing to become. Pride of the road he had to walk to get where he was, not forgetting the stuff he had done but rising over it.

It had taken a family. At first not his own, it was Finn’s, it was Kurt’s, it was Rachel’s, then his sister and his mother; it was like his mom’s patchwork, a mix of so many different things that looked quite ugly together no matter how much she tried, but it was warm and loving. He had, for so long, to try to be himself by himself, forgetting what he had at home, the people he could count on, that the very people who should have had his back didn’t even knew they should have been worried. Carole had been his first motherly figure, the first real one (his own mother was more a friend than a mom) and later Burt had taken him under his wing, and one of his boys. Burt… Burt called him son, sure he called everyone son, but it held another meaning between them and that was enough for him. Hiram and Leroy where like his uncles. Those really gay uncles that every family had, with the annoying cousin; the uncles that loved you like you were one of their own kids… the one that made you tea when you were so confused about your sexuality you didn’t know what your name was anymore.

It had taken Kurt. All of him. His preoccupation and his willingness to be there for him, first as a fellow Glee Clubber, then as Finn’s brother, then as a friend, as a good friend, as a best friend, as that guy you were best friend with but the sexual tension was so strong between you that you couldn’t actually talk. His care, his warm smile, his loving hands, his tight hugs, his willingness to be with him, his cheers to aim higher, his secret smiles and his love.

More than anything, his love.


	5. The usual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things don't go as planned

 

 

“Kurt?”

“What is it, Puck?”

“Look, tonight, show up at 7 at breadsticks and if I don’t find a hot chick to take home… I might show up”

“Whatever, Puck. Whatever you say”

That night Puck showed up around 7, or just a couple minutes later, and Kurt was nowhere to be seen.

Damn, it seemed the usual routine wasn’t going to work on Hummel. He’d have to try again.

 

 

 


	6. What's in a name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What's in a name? That which we call a rose  
> By any other name would smell as sweet."

Puck didn’t like his last name. Ok, Puckerman was the reason he became Puck, but that was more something about not being his mom’s Noah to everyone else, and because he really couldn’t stand to hear his father’s last name when people talked about him.

He had dealt with his feelings for his father, long ago, it wasn’t really a problem now, the man was gone and he was going to stay gone. That didn’t meant he didn’t feel a bit ashamed to have the name of someone who didn’t care about him enough to call after he left. He would have rather been Noah Koplowitz than Puckerman, but, whatever. His name was in the registry already and it would be a bother to do the paperwork to change it.

So, his last name bothered him? Boo fucking hoo. 

He’d just deal.

He turned into Puck, who at least could be that little pixie he had seen in a play with Rachel, and make a name for himself.

But then, decades after he first decided to be Puck, when he was living in New York and had left almost all his past behind (with small doses of going back to it, for Hannukah and Thanks Giving, mostly), Kurt popped the question.

He couldn’t say anything but yes.

One, because he was too surprised to be asked instead of being the one asking. And two, because, well… he really couldn’t imagine anything better than staying with Kurt until they grew old and fluffy, and his guns faded, and Kurt’s head started going bald and all. Just. Really, he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do for the rest of his life. 

So he said yes. 

Well… or something like it.

“Hummel”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“No, I’m going to be Noah Hummel. I don’t really hold anything for the name Puckerman, and when we have kids it’s going to be a bother for them to write something long like Hummel-Puckerman or Puckerman-Hummel”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes”


	7. Perfect World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Translation of a Drabble in Spanish, in which Puck is a space pirate and Kurt a merman sold into slavery.

The space was a complicated place, it was unstable and dangerous; it was a place where only the strongest would live and only those with money would be able to buy what they lacked in strength. If you were lucky and you were born with the a strong body, the money would follow without even having to work on it. 

Noah Puckerman VIII had been born weak, fatherless, and with a mother that had quickly informed him that his old man had left him nothing but a name passed down generation after generation and a space ship just about to crumble. Any other would have let himself be beaten by that fate, but Noah was fast and had discovered, quite easily, that it was easier to steal food than to pay for it; and it didn’t took long to realize that it was easier to steal than to work if what he wanted was money.

Nowadays Captain Puck, as he insisted to be called (because it was a name he had made for himself and not the legacy of a weak old man too weak to fight back), was the most feared of the space pirates. He had a ship under his orders where every one of his men and women feared for their lives if they knew what was best for them, and his decisions were orders that had to be carried under pain of dead. Even with that, though, all hands aboard trusted him and weren’t scared of what he might choose for them, they knew that their captain wasn’t going to put them on trouble if he knew he wasn’t going to be able to get them out of them later.

So, if the Captain wanted to buy a bad tempered merman, no one would say a thing about it, even more, they’d made some space on his big cabin and they’d decorate a giant aquarium for the kid without the Captain having to order it.

Puck entered his cabin with a small that would have any other guy trembling in fear, but the merman in his glass cage didn’t do anything but look at him with resentment. There was a seat at the feet of the aquarium in which Puck sat without losing time.

“Change that face, gorgeous, you are not going out of there anytime soon and you’d better get used to it” he said, touching the glass just where the merman’s back was resting. “Why don’t you tell me your name? I’m Puck, or… well… Noah Puckerman VIII, but everyone calls me Captain Puck”.

The merman did nothing but to swim as far from Puck as possible, and leaned over some rocks to rest.

After that short interaction Puck left him alone, sometimes he tried to engage him in a talk, but he never really put much of himself on it because he had more pressing matters on his hands, like trying to rescue his sister. His mother had died a few years ago, while he had been on the other side of the universe, so his sister had been left alone with nothing more than their mother’s debts. When he had got word of her passing and had the time to get back to his homeworld, the girl had been sold to a group of slavers and her whereabouts were unknown.

“I’m not going to try anything, you know? I know there are some idiots who buy slaves to have them as sexual toys and such, but I’m not like that… it’s not my style” Puck said one day, sitting close to the glass with a bottle of rum. “My sister was sold into slavery too, and I can’t stand the thought of someone doing that to her. When I looked at you there, on that auction, I knew immediately that someone was going to buy you and break your spirit if I didn’t buy you… and I need to know that, wherever my sister is, her spirit isn’t going to break; that maybe someone else was going to try and save her too…”

The merman swam slowly to the glass, looking at him with those eyes that were a mix of blue and green and gray, like the pictures he had seen of his planet, and the his hair waving with the currents of the water around him. His blue skin looked soft, but Puck knew that if he looked closer he was going to see the small scales that characterized the people of that race. 

A delicate hand rested on the glass, just before his eyes, a drew a couple of letters on the surface. K - U - R- T.

“Good night, Kurt, mi name is Puck” he said, touching the glass with his open hand. The merman did the same, as some kind of hand shake that was never going to happen because of the glass between them. “It’s a pleasure to finally know you”.

The merman, Kurt, for the first time, smiled.


	8. Numb

There were few things that Puck would say that could break his heart.

There was that time his dad left, just before his game, just before his sister birthday, leaving nothing but a sad little girl who didn’t really got why her dad was so late coming home.

There was the moment he realized that, besides football, he didn’t really had that many good things for him, no matter what his mom told him. It was obvious that no one else believed what she said, if even the girl he liked could toss Lima loser to him like that. 

Then, there was Beth. She broke his heart in the worst way, she was at the top of his list for years. He could remember her, just when she was born and they gave her away. He remembered signing the papers not really knowing what he was doing, barely aware of all the pain he was feeling because he was just so numb from it that the wound didn’t felt as fatal as it was. 

And then he had to say goodbye to her again. He didn’t even bother looking at Shelby, she wasn’t worth it, but Beth… she looked so happy to see him, all hands and smiles, and it broke him again to have to say goodbye, this time God knew for how long.

The other things didn’t felt as heartbreaking in comparison to those 4 things. Yeah, he had lost Finn’s friendship, but he got it back at some point and even better, being Finn’s friend now implied being Kurt’s friend… and that was one of the few good things that had happened to him. Then there was the way he felt when he realized that he had messed up a lot of people lives while he was messed up, but he worked hard and fixed that. No regrets on that field. Losing his job had been a downer but it wasn’t that bad, he had an amazing husband at home who made it all better, bitching for him when it was needed. 

But then, good things, bad things, heartbreaking things… they all paled in comparison to what he was feeling now. 

It was just like giving Beth away again, only worse because no matter what he did now… there was no going back, he was never going to mend his heart from this and he knew it.

It was in the back of his head, a feeling of desperation so strong that numbed him to everything else. Numbed the pain, the tears, the fear… he only knew that this was it. 

There were few things that Puck would say that could break his heart, but he had always managed to mend it afterwards.

But this… there was no mending for this.

He kissed Kurt for the last time, and as they kissed he could taste Kurt tears, and his blood, and the way life was slowly going away from him.

There were few things that Puck would say that could break his heart, but feeling the love of your life dying under your lips, there was no going back from that. There was no mending. 

There was only numbness. 


	9. To take risks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His dad was a deadbeat, but he must have had his reasons, right? RIGHT?

Noah met Lucy in the hospital, after a fight. She was a nurse and he was the stupid guy with a broken nose who was bleeding all over the place. He asked for her number and she told him he could have it as long as he took his blood somewhere else because it must have been, for sure, infected with all kinds of diseases.

They got married two years later, after a big fight, after Lucy finally decided that she wasn’t going to stand his ways anymore. He said he’d change, as much as he could, and that he just couldn’t live without her. She believed it.

Little Noah was born 3 years later, having his bris a few days later no matter how much he complained about it.

The kid changed his world one eighty degrees. He stopped going to bars and he stayed at home most of the time to take care of him. When the little bugger was old enough to walk they could do all kinds of stuff. They went to the park together, flied kites, the tossed the ball for so long that sometimes Noah would just be too tired to play the guitar afterwards. They had this game, where the dad was this big dinosaur out to catch him, and Noah would run all over the house in those little unsure steps that kids took.

The kid was the best thing to have ever happened with him and he obviously loved his dad as much as he loved him, if the way that he clung to his legs whenever he was going out was any indication.

Life was Lucy was difficult, though. Lucy wasn’t the awesome, rude girl she had been. Long hours in the hospital, going home to a kid that always made noise when she wanted to sleep, and a husband that would rather spend his days playing music and hoping that someone would discover him than working some kind of blue collared job was taking its toll and most of the time they fought for hours.

They didn’t have sex anymore. Some weeks they didn’t even talk but to fight. He spend his days playing his guitar, calling people, sending demos everywhere he could think of, he would try to sweet talk some people (producers, secretaries, etc) just so they could agree to hear anything he sent, but nothing so far. The rest of his days he spent them trying to do something for his kid.

Noah, little Noah, was just so alive with that big smile and those big eyes that got all teary when he went away for a meeting or rehearsal.

Lucy never let him take Noah with him. She was completely against it, she didn’t want him to know what music was, what playing a guitar was. She wanted a normal child who would, at some point, meet a nice jewish girl, marry, have kids, and a job that could feed them. She didn’t want her little Noah to be a musician, so Papa could just go to his gigs without his son, because a bar was no place for a kid.

He hated her a little because of that.

It felt like there was this whole part of his life that he couldn’t share with his child, with his son. He wanted more from life than what it was giving him and he was losing faith, and sometimes he could only blame Lucy for it.

It took him a while to realize that what he wanted for life was, mostly, something he would have to do alone.

The loving wife and amazing son gig was never going on tour, he would never be able to do what he had been fighting for all his life. If he wanted to make a name for himself in the music industry he would have to somehow convince them to uproot from there, to work with him. 

He never really got to tell Lucy about it.

For two years he tried to convince himself of telling her, that he was losing time and each year he was a year too old to make it. 

And then Lucy was pregnant again and all his plans went straight to the trash.

He couldn’t talk about uprooting from Lima when Lucy was pregnant. There was just no way Lucy would want that.

So… he gave up.

He took a job in an autoshop, with some guy named Burt, it was easy enough for him to do, but he didn’t like it. At least it paid the bills and, when Lucy needed something for the kids, she’d get it.

He endured the job for a little more than a year.

He saw the way his son fell in love with the little girl they had. They called her Nina, and the first works the little girl said were “No-No”. For about five seconds Noah thought it was because her father was home, but no, it was because her brother was making faces at her. 

He kept working with Hummel a few more months, both of them enduring the fucked up pace that their boss would have them under.

And then it happened.

Hummel’s wife died in a freaking car crash.

He went to the funeral in a really down mood, Noah holding his hand as if the little dude would make it all better just with that. While Burt’s kid and Noah talked under a tree he went to talk with Hummel.

The man was standing there, looking at the grave, and his eyes looked so empty that he just couldn’t get any closer.

So he stayed there, thinking, thinking of the lovely girl Elizabeth had been, and the way her life had been just ripped of her by a drunk guy in a car. On just how short life was and how little they could do about somethings.

And as something died inside Burt that day something started reigniting in his. 

He couldn’t stand there waiting for something to happen. He had been waiting for so long, he had fought for so long too, he just couldn’t give up. He didn’t want to die one day regretting that the thing he had always wanted went down the drain at some point because he had just gave up. 

On the way home he told Noah about fighting, about always trying hard and about never giving up. He talked about being a good kid and loving his sister, and loving his mom no matter how much of a pain she was being. He told him about music, about how the emotions could all come out in just a few tunes if you knew what you were doing. He told him about how he shouldn’t care about people said about him, because if he was doing what he wanted there was nothing to be ashamed of. He told him about taking risks and loving with all his heart. He told him how only he would know what made him happy and how he should follow that dream until the end.

And then later that night, while Lucy was doing that dishes and the kids were sleeping, he packed. He left all his things in the doorway and went to the kitchen. Lucy was already crying.

“I really loved you, I went against myself for you, but life is too short” he said, hugging her.

“I knew you’d go eventually” she answered.

“Tell the kids that I love them. I’ll try to keep in touch” he said, picking his bags and loading them into the truck.

“Don’t. It’s easier to be angry than to be sad” she answered, and the anger in her voice showed for the first time. “I don’t want them broken because their dad didn’t love them enough. I rather they are angry because their dad is a selfish pig”

“If that’s what you want…”

They parted ways that day.


	10. A boy and his cat (Animal of massive destruction)

Kurt had a cat.

Not everyone knew he liked cats, because he was always a bit difficult with most animals (whiny, Noah would say), but cats were just simply adorable. They were bitchy just like him, independent enough to be able to stay without him for a day without having his neighbors complain about animals crying while he is gone.

Hell, the cat doesn’t even like him most of the time, and that was the most fun part of it. Sure, he liked to be petted, but most of the time the cat would look at him with such a cold expression that Kurt was sure that the poor animal must be so incredibly disappointed in him that it was almost humbling. 

And then Noah came with the idea of naming it. 

Kurt said that it had a name, it was “Cat” and everyone was happy with it. Noah was not, though.

And so the whole “Let’s name this animal of massive destruction” began. After weeks and weeks of Noah coming to him with the most awful names he could think of (from Drizzle to Arguyle -like my socks, look!-) he finally gave up when Kurt decided to put sex as his bargaining chip (even though he wouldn’t last a day before wanting to get in Noah’s pants again).

But then Kurt came to the house one day only to be welcomed with the sound of music, he walked to his room and found Noah in nothing but his boxers, with his guitar and the cat. He was singing a song -it’s titled ‘you’re a cat, and your name is Cat’- with such an aggravated expresion, that Kurt couldn’t help but chuckle and lean on the door frame.

“Ok, we’ll name the cat”

“What about Kat?” 


End file.
